Oh, there are certainly ghosts, drawn to Wei Wuxian as surely as ever. You're not even a maroon and you swear you can sense them. But it isn't the undead that you have to be worried about.
It's the ground itself, which erupts into a set of vicious stone spikes across the center of your group, opening up a shallow chasm from which other combatants spring.
You see a flash of white and blue, and you throw yourself away from the other jadebloods, and of course it isn't Wei Wuxian without Lan Wangji, and you're going to either die here or die later a traitor, so you yell at the top of your lungs, "Hanguang-jun! I don't want to be here!"
In the time it takes you to scream that - instinctively, in a tongue you haven't spoken in this lifetime except to your brother - you realize two things:
The majority of other combatants are also human, though they're mostly people you haven't seen before, with the exception of the shock of violet electricity that must be Jiang Cheng.
And Lan Wangji is the exception, because he's a fucking Andalite, because why the hell not.
You don't get more than a sense of being mentally acknowledged before the ground opens up under your feet and you're sucked into the stone underneath, but, well, at least you're not in the battle anymore. You do, however, because today is a day for the return of old habits, faint.
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Oh, there are certainly ghosts, drawn to Wei Wuxian as surely as ever. You're not even a maroon and you swear you can sense them. But it isn't the undead that you have to be worried about.
It's the ground itself, which erupts into a set of vicious stone spikes across the center of your group, opening up a shallow chasm from which other combatants spring.
You see a flash of white and blue, and you throw yourself away from the other jadebloods, and of course it isn't Wei Wuxian without Lan Wangji, and you're going to either die here or die later a traitor, so you yell at the top of your lungs, "Hanguang-jun! I don't want to be here!"
In the time it takes you to scream that - instinctively, in a tongue you haven't spoken in this lifetime except to your brother - you realize two things:
The majority of other combatants are also human, though they're mostly people you haven't seen before, with the exception of the shock of violet electricity that must be Jiang Cheng.
And Lan Wangji is the exception, because he's a fucking Andalite, because why the hell not.
You don't get more than a sense of being mentally acknowledged before the ground opens up under your feet and you're sucked into the stone underneath, but, well, at least you're not in the battle anymore. You do, however, because today is a day for the return of old habits, faint.